


i don’t (i don’t regret)

by LizMikaelson



Series: this is a mess (of our own creation) [2]
Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, basically just porn, this has no pretence of plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-08 21:18:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20842157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizMikaelson/pseuds/LizMikaelson
Summary: penelope gets injured. hope is there, in the aftermath.





	i don’t (i don’t regret)

**Author's Note:**

> an extended outtake to this is a mess (of our own creation), set after penelope is attacked by the flying demons

“duck,” hope mutters, “when demons are flying at you,” and smears the healing paste she has stored away for these occasions across the cut stretching up from penelope’s hip. “especially when they have claws."

pen rolls her eyes. “stop making it sound like i’m gravely injured.”

hope doesn’t reply, just traces her fingers over the skin of penelope’s stomach, memorising it. she knows she’s overreacting, but she doesn’t _like_ seeing penelope hurt.

“i suppose you’ll live,” she says, at last, and penelope laughs, and hope can’t help the smile that crosses her face at that sound.

she gets up and screws the lid of the paste back on, placing it back at its spot on her window sill. the cut slashing across penelope’s stomach is nearly healed and it’s only when she turns back around that she really notices that penelope’s shirt is still on the other end of the bed, left where hope threw it, before.

“are you going to put that back on?” she asks.

“do you want me to?” penelope replies, her head tilted and an eyebrow raised in a silent challenge. this is bad idea, has been for weeks, but hope has never been good at resisting temptation.

has never been worse at it than when she’s around penelope park.

and so she moves closer, and closer, and whispers no against penelope’s lips.

and she kisses penelope and traces her hands over the lines of penelope’s body, exposed to her, now, instead, and delights in the way penelope shudders underneath her touch.

she listens to the way penelope’s breathing turns frantic, drags her mouth away from penelope’s lips and over her neck and when she leaves the first mark, she almost waits for penelope to stop her.

to say something about the other students or school or josie - oh god, josie - 

but instead - “fuck,” penelope curses and her hips arch upwards and hope feels breathless, all previous thoughts erased from her mind. she shifts them until penelope is stretched out across the pillows and presses her mouth down on the soft skin, across penelope’s neck and then below her collarbone.

pen makes the most delicious sound when hope’s lips slide over her nipple, still covered in the lace of her bra and hope really, really, needs her to be more naked, right now. she tugs, until the flimsy material gives way to her touch, rips.

“you owe me a bra, mikaelson,” penelope says, but her hands are pressing down against hope’s shoulder blades, bringing them closer together.

“okay,” hope promises, a smile on her lips, and takes advantage of the bare skin she exposed. she soothes the marks she leaves with her tongue and watches penelope’s skin colour under her touch and feels fire burn in her veins. she lingers there, watching the skin turn red under her touch, listens to the sound penelope's breathing, rapid, urgent, wanting. 

she pushes her thigh between penelope’s legs, closer and closer, and penelope slides her hands upwards, tangles them in hope’s hair and pulls her down until their mouths meet, again.

pen moans when hope’s leg pushes down, moans again when hope’s hands slide up her legs, pushing her skirt out of the way and she tugs at hope’s shirt and hope sits up quickly, removes her shirt before sliding her fingers across the zipper of penelope’s skirt.

she tilts her head, a silent question, and penelope nods, fast and almost frantic.

there are a thousand things she could say, she wants to say, but instead, she slides the zipper down slowly and watches penelope slide out of the skirt.

she looks far, far too pretty like this, stretched out on hope’s bed, as good as naked, dark hair splayed out across the sheets, her lips swollen and red, hope’s marks covering her body, and hope bends down, crashes their lips together and lets her fingers move over penelope’s body. she covers penelope's wrists with her hands, feels the fast beat of penelope's pulse under her touch and uses one hand to pin them together over penelope's head. she half-expects penelope to object, but when she looks up, penelope is biting down on her own lip, her eyes wide, wanting. 

slowly, she slides the fingers of her free over penelope’s panties, finds them soaked through and can’t help the gasp that escapes her.

“you might as well rip those, too,” penelope mutters, and hope does, and penelope shakes her head, just slightly, like she didn’t quite mean it but doesn’t mind at all and she’s smiling. hope kisses her, soft, and sweet, and for a moment, the world is entirely their own, and they just get to _be_.

she traces her fingers over the soft skin of penelope’s thighs, higher and higher, and hope slides two fingers inside of her and penelope moans. 

“hope,” pen gasps and hearing her name drop from penelope’s lips may be the sweetest thing she’s ever heard.

“look at me, baby,” hope demands, and penelope’s eyes open, dark green, pupils blown, and hope curls her fingers, just just right, and moves her mouth against penelope’s pulse point, sucks the soft skin into her mouth, and penelope whimpers, and hope moves faster and faster.

she never wants to look away, doesn’t think she can ever get enough of looking at penelope like this, her eyes wide, and trusting, her focus entirely on hope. "don't let go," penlope pleads and hope bends down to kiss her, gentle and careful. "i've got you," she promises.

“fuck - hope, fuck,” and there’s an urgency to penelope’s movements now and hope responds in kind, fucking penelope with one hand, using the other one to keep her pinned against the bed, and penelope strains against her hold, bringing their bodies together and arching closer and closer to hope. hope quickens her thrusts, and watches penelope, her head thrown back, her breasts heaving, her hips moving desperately. 

“i've got you,” hope repeats, and penelope’s body trembles, and she falls to pieces, clenching around hope’s fingers. hope releases her grasp on penelope’s wrist and penelope takes advantage, settling her hands on hope’s shoulders, clinging to her, and pulling her closer, until they’re kissing again.

minutes pass until they break apart and penelope smirks at her. "you're overdressed, mikaelson," and hope can't help the laugh that escapes her, joyful and free, even as penelope's fingers make quick work of her skirt. 


End file.
